Chapter 204: Minmin, It Doesn’t Hurt Anymore

The palace was secluded, and as Su Wan walked along, she noticed that the area was heavily guarded.

Standing at the tightly shut doors, Su Wan stared at the lattice of the door panels, which were covered with black paper, making it impossible to see inside. She sniffed the air and immediately caught the strong scent of medicine.

The Empress’s words echoed in her mind—her mother not only had forgotten the past but was also nearing the end of her life.

Is this why she never returned to Great Zhou?

Su Wan’s heart grew heavy. She tilted her head and glanced at the Regent standing beside her.

The Regent stared intensely at the door, his dark eyes filled with turbulent emotions, as if all his feelings were surging, ready to burst forth at any moment. His hand twitched slightly but stopped mid-air, as if he couldn’t bring himself to push open the door in front of him.

The handkerchief wrapped around his hand, once stained with dried blood, was now soaked with fresh blood again.

Su Wan’s heart leaped—there was no need to check; the wound had surely reopened.

“Creak—”

Without hesitation, Su Wan pushed the door open.

Sunlight flooded the room instantly, and the thick, bitter scent of medicine trapped inside spilled out, stinging the Regent’s eyes, turning them red.

The Empress, witnessing this scene, felt a mix of bitterness and sorrow well up in her heart, leaving her deeply moved.

If there hadn’t been so many concerns back then, would the two of them have already become a couple by now?

The Empress wanted to urge them to go in quickly.

“Father, shall we go in?” Su Wan asked softly.

That title, like a sudden clap of thunder, left the Empress utterly stunned.

Father… Father?

Was he her biological father… 

or one she recognized halfway through her life?

Before the Empress could sort out her thoughts, the Regent stepped inside.

Su Wan followed closely behind, her heart heavy with concern for both the Regent’s condition and Qi Min’s illness.

Speculation arose—could it be the work of a mother-child gu curse?

The Regent loosened the cloak draped over his shoulders and tossed it onto a wooden rack nearby. Then, he pushed open the inner door.

The dim scene inside came into full view.

His gaze locked onto Qi Min, lying unconscious on the bed. Her once radiant and striking beauty, which had captivated all, was now replaced by a pale and emaciated face. She no longer exuded the sharp dominance she once had; instead, a fragile softness had taken its place.

She looked uncomfortable, her sleep restless, with a frown deeply etched between her brows. Her fingers twitched, trying to grasp the bedding, but her strength was insufficient—her weak attempt felt like it was clutching at his heart, leaving a bleeding wound.

He moved closer to the bedside, taking her hand in his and leaning in to embrace Qi Min. He pulled her gently into his arms, and used his other hand to gently stroke her back.

Qi Min had always been especially afraid of pain. Yet, she had stationed herself on the frontlines, guarding the border, where injuries were inevitable. Every time she returned to camp, her face would pale from the pain, though she always forced herself to endure it.

Seeing her in pain, his heart ached. But Qi Min had once smiled and said, “When I’m in pain, just hold me and pat my back, and the pain will go away.”

Then, a sly glimmer flashed in her eyes. “You could also kiss me.”

It felt as if his heart were suddenly clenched, aching so deeply that he bent down, holding Qi Min tighter. She was so thin, reduced to skin and bones, as if she could embed herself into his very soul, never to be separated again by anyone.

“Minmin, it won’t hurt anymore,” he whispered.

The Regent gently stroked Qi Min’s back, slowly, again and again. Her trembling body, wracked with pain, gradually calmed down, settling quietly in his arms.

Standing to the side, Su Wan was overwhelmed with complicated emotions. His movements were so familiar, as if he had done this countless times before, as if the past decade or so of separation had never existed, as if they had never been apart.

She turned her back to them, raising a hand to press against the corners of her stinging eyes.

The Empress also turned her head toward the window, unwilling and too afraid to watch.

Their mother had been selfish.

Though the two sisters were born of the same mother, she had lived a quiet and carefree life, frail and sheltered for more than ten years in Baima Temple. During that time, she met the man she had loved since childhood, someone who stayed by her side for a lifetime. Together, they built a life, complete with children.

Her elder sister had been taken away from their mother at a young age, raised by their father, and sent to fight on the battlefield. She found someone she loved but was unable to be with him. Instead, she was forced to marry a man she did not love and was later taken back to Xiliang by their mother’s command, separating her from her child. She spent more than a decade in solitude, and now, she lay bedridden with little time left to live.

The Empress’s heart was filled with guilt.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. The Empress, sensitive to the change, turned her head—and her gaze met Qi Min’s, who looked at her with confused and bewildered eyes.

“Sister…” The Empress’s palms were damp with nervous sweat, more so than when she had first impersonated her sister to marry Fan Yuheng. She stared at Qi Min without blinking, watching her lie motionless in the Regent’s arms, as if still disoriented. Quickly, she explained, “These are the two old acquaintances I mentioned to you yesterday.”

Qi Min blinked and slowly lifted her gaze to the man’s determined jawline. His features were sharp and unyielding, and though illness shadowed his brows, the natural authority he exuded remained undiminished.

“Let… go of me,” Qi Min muttered, struggling slightly. In that brief moment, her gaze shifted and landed on Su Wan standing nearby. Her eyes froze on her, and lingered.